It was another trip to the doctor yesterday to have my toe checked, and it was all fine. I was tempted to ask him whether I would be able to resume my career as a professional dancer but I suspected he wouldn't get the joke. Fair enough, it's not really funny.
I was watching Scott on Youtube this morning while he was wandering around Scotland looking for old wells. I suppose if you lived in a place with such a long history it would be interesting to see the remains of the past. In Longford, we only go back a couple of hundred years and the closest we come to ancient relics is the evidence of the car-racing track which existed her until the 1970s. Interesting enough, I suppose but just scratching the surface of history. He stopped at one stage to point out that there used to be a well at Balgownie. Balgownie? Not the one near Wollongong, of course. The original Balgownie has been there for thousands of years.
Then he mentioned there was another well at Glennifer Brae. That was the name of the big house in the paddock near our house in Gwyneville which became a posh girls' school, but that's not where he meant either.
Later on, he found a site where the bricks were marked Blantyre Ferme and Blantyre is the name of the village where we began our lives before coming to Australia.
It's not unusual to have a connection to some of the things we discover on Youtube but to have three from one program is certainly strange.
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